Crucial Misery
by Gazlover12-Canada
Summary: The American Revolutionary war changed England. Now France, and many of the other countries are worried about him. America's letters have gone unanswered, France's visits are doing almost nothing, and England seems to be suffering more within each day.
1. France

**No pairings. It will be angsty, but slightly fluffy as some points as well. Later chapters will be much, MUCH longer!(:**

The skies of London were dark and cloudy. Thunder rumbled audibly, and lighting flashed fiercely. Francis Bonnefoy stood watching the storm for a moment before blinking and turning his attention to the house he stood in front of; England's house. It was certainly a nice home, with iron gates and a beautiful stone pathway.

France had come here for a few reasons. The main one was to check on how England was holding up. Only a month ago had he lost the American Revolutionary war. France had been told by America how terrible the last battle had been. Alfred told him about how England had fell to his knees and sobbed that night, and of how bad the American had felt.

Of course France felt bad as well. After all, if it wasn't for him then he doubted America would have won. And when he heard that England had cried he was alarmed...because England barely ever cried, it was such a rare thing!

So yes, that was why France was here. He'd tried sending letters to his rival, but they all went unanswered. America had sent letters too, and those never got a reply as well. Finally fed up and worried, France had decided to go see England personally right away.

He slowly walked up the stone pathway, stopping at the large front door. What on earth would he say to England? What sort of state would England be in when he entered the house? Would England even let him in?

Finally the Frenchman gathered up enough courage and knocked. It took a few moments before the door slowly cracked open. France had been prepared to come face to face with Arthur, but instead was greeted by a maid or servant of some sort. She was a woman who was perhaps in her late twenties or early thirties.

"May I help you?" She asked, eying him with curiosity. She knew he must have been important or rich because of the expensive clothes he wore.

"I'm looking to visit Arthur" Francis replied smoothly. The maid nodded at him, opening the door further to allow Francis inside.

"I'm not really sure if Sir Kirkland is up to visitors, but you can try." She told him. "Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"

"Non, but thank you for the offer." France replied.

"Come this way then. He never really comes out of his bedroom anymore, but sometimes we've been able to by coaxing him out with tea." She said, gesturing for him to follow her up the elegant stairway. Francis frowned to himself. Arthur was isolating himself even in his own country?

The maid knocked softly on Arthur's bedroom door. There was no reply, so she knocked once again. After not receiving any reply, she turned to him and shrugged her shoulders.

"Perhaps he's sleeping? Maybe you should wait in the parlor until he wakes up...he doesn't take kindly to being awoken. Besides, he doesn't get much sleep anyway. He needs it."

"What do you mean?" France asked with another frown.

"He has nightmares" She whispered. "I only work here during the day, but the servants who live here have said they hear him screaming in his sleep every night."

"Hmm" Francis hummed to himself, a look of concern crossing his features. "Don't worry, Arthur knows me well. I must see him straight away."

"All right. I'll leave you to it then." She responded.

"Merci, chéri" Francis thanked her. The maid bowed before leaving the hallway, going back to her tasks in the kitchen. Now that he was alone, France took no time in opening England's door. When he entered, the room was very dark with the curtains drawn shut. It took a moment before France's eyes could adjust.

The master bedroom was large, sporting lovely polished wooden furniture, including a dresser, rocking chair, and bed. France had visited England's house a good number of times, but he'd never really been in England's bedroom.

"Why the bloody hell are you here?" A voice croaked from across the room. Francis turned to where the voice had come from, and saw a small lump on the gigantic fluffy bed.

"Ah, so you _are_ awake" Francis said, putting on his best smile. Then he walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge.

"I asked you a bloody question. You are _not_ welcome here!" Arthur Kirkland responded, his voice wavering slightly. Francis studied the younger blonde. His usually beautiful green eyes were dull with no emotion, and were slightly puffy from the crying that he must have just been doing.

"Oh cher" France mumbled, reaching out to try and flatten England's messy hair, which stood up at all angles. England dodged however, scooting back out of Francis's reach.

"Get out Francis" He said coldly. "Haven't you helped humiliate me enough already?"

"You haven't been answering my letters Angleterre. Not mine, or any of the other countries either." France said, avoiding England's question. The Brit was silent, glaring at France with as much hatred as possible.

"If you don't leave right now..." England left his threat hanging, hoping that it would be enough to drive France away. It didn't work, and instead only had France give him a stern look.

"l'Amérique deserved his independence. I can tell he's going to be a powerful country, and he deserves to be able to put his strengths to use. You must face the loss and pay attention to your own country."

At the mention of America, England visibly stiffened. He gave France a look of pure hatred, a look that almost tore France in two. He didn't realize the war would affect Arthur this much. He was beginning to regret ever helping America in the first place. His heart told him it had been the right thing to do however...America would do great things.

"The war was between Amer- _him_ and I only! You had no right to get yourself involved! I hate you France, I hate you so much!" England ended his shouting fit with his voice breaking into a sob. France blinked in shock for a moment, because he'd barely ever seen England cry. He briefly wondered how much crying England had been doing this past month. By the looks of it, he did everyday.

"Come here." France said softly, pulling the slender Brit into his arms. He frowned internally at how skinny England was. Had the country even been eating at all?

England sobbed quietly into Francis's shoulder for awhile. The whole time France only whispered soothing words, just as he had when England was just a little country, being bullied by his older brothers.

Soon the sobbing turned into small hiccups, and eventually England was silent. Then the Brit seemed to realize that he was in his rival's arms, so he quickly pulled away, scrubbing his tears away with the back of his hand.

"Francis...please can you go?" He asked. The way he said it shocked France. England's tone had been desperate, broken. So France did what England had asked of him. He ran his hand gently through England's hair and stood up, crossing the room to get to the door. Before Francis left he opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. England curled back up on the bed, no longer even acknowledging France's presence.

When Francis walked back down the stairs, the maid who had let him in stared at him with an expression almost hopefully. Francis understood what she was thinking. The maid was new here, and she was very worried about England's well being. He was sorry to disappoint her with a sad shake of his head. The maid's hopeful expression turned into one of sorrow.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be much help. I will be back again in the future to visit him." France told her.

"Oh yes, please do. We're all so worried about him." She said.

"Well, expect more visitors soon Mrs..." Francis stopped, realizing that he didn't even know the servant's name.

"Eliza Herring sir. Please though, just call me Eliza."

"Very well then. Well Eliza, take good care of Arthur." France said, resting his hand on the front doorknob. After receiving a nod, France opened the door and proceeded to go back to where his carriage was waiting. The rain was still pouring, and the sky was still dark. The Frenchman sighed to himself, before climbing into his carriage. What had he done to his poor Angleterre?

**a/n: This chapter was merely a start. I plan to do chapters with different countries going to visit England, or worry about him. If you want me to write a chapter in a certain countries perspective, please review and tell me which one. Also, the maid Eliza will not have a very big role. She and a few maids will be mentioned sometimes throughout the story though. Please review! **


	2. Scotland

**Chapter 2: Scotland**

Allister Kirkland, or Scotland, was not the kind of person who pitied others. In fact, his motto was to man up about everyday life problems and shove them out of your life. One of his everyday problems was his little brother Arthur.

So maybe they didn't get along too well during their childhood...or even very much in the present day for that matter, but it didn't mean that he hated the runt. Sometimes he'd visit, whether to just have a bottle of whiskey together or to talk about country business.

Right now though, he was going on behalf of his other brothers, Ireland and Wales. They were both very worried about England. Obviously they went straight to Scotland, requesting that he go and do what he could to help England.

Now he was currently sitting in England's parlor, a cup of tea in hand. When he had first come in the servants had been glad, instantly welcoming him inside and serving him tea. One servant said that she could go and get England, but he waved her off.

Allister felt that England was being a wuss about this whole war. So he'd lost his brother, so what? Besides, that America was much too enthusiastic for Scotland's taste anyway. He was going to convince England, and that was finale!

When he got to England's bedroom he didn't knock, just barging in. It was mid-day, so he seriously doubted Arthur would be changing or anything. When he stepped inside, his eyes widened a little. Arthur was sitting by the window in his chair, knees drawn up to his chest.

Honestly the runt looked a lot younger in this state than he normally did. His blonde locks hid his eyes, and his hands were trembling. Scotland studied the younger male for a moment longer before snorting. What a pathetic country. England was supposed to be a powerful empire, not some sissy wimp!

"Sasana, what the hell do y'think your doing?" Scotland thundered, storming over to stand above the younger. England blinked in shock, as if he hadn't heard Scotland enter.

"Allister...what the bloody hell are you doing here?" He asked in alarm. True, England was still wary of his brothers, but that only satisfied Scotland further.

"Just look at you...you need to man up!" Scotland shouted in England's face, giving him a small shove. "So what if he's not you colony anymore? Your better off without the stupid, unruly brat. His country wont last long, just give him a few years or so, then he'll fall!" Scotland said, fists clenched at his sides.

Instantly England looked upset, his lower lip quivering and eyes watering up. Scotland felt bad, despite being used to making Arthur cry when they were kids all the time. He drew in a breath to continue his lecture but found that he was unable to.

"You need to get over-...you have to...it's not.." Scotland cursed as he tried to find the right words of what to say.

"You didn't see him when...when we were facing each other. And I couldn't even shoot him!" England murmured angrily to Scotland. Despite his tone he gave his older brother a look of desperation, a look of pleading, not even sure of what he was asking.

Allister could do nothing but rest a hand on Arthur's shoulder. He wasn't exactly one for comforting. What they both needed was a drink! The strongest whiskey in stock! But...that probably wasn't a good idea. Though alcohol was enjoyable for fun, it wasn't right to use it to take away hurt.

"Listen up Art, your going to stop this sulking. We all know what it's like to loose wars, but we do recover. I want you to get dressed, then your going to eat something. Got it?" Allister spoke the words softly but sternly.

England nodded to his older brother and stood up, going towards his dresser. Scotland took this as a que to leave and drew open the shades before exiting the room and going towards the kitchens. There were a few servants mingling around, not doing much since Arthur never made them do anything anymore.

"Make Arthur a big lunch and deliver it to his room, got it?" He told them. They looked alarmed, but nodded.

"So he's going to finally eat?" One asked.

"Yes, he agreed to. I'm leaving now, but be sure to hurry with your cooking." Scotland replied, turning around and leaving the house.

He sighed to himself.

"I really _am_ getting too soft..."

Inside however, England had pulled on a loose button up white shirt and slacks. He sat back in his chair, looking out the window. For once the rain had let it. It wasn't extremely sunny, but it was quite bright out. There was a soft knock on his door a few minutes later.

"Come in" He said softly, assuming that it was Scotland. Instead one of his servants came in, carrying a tray with a meal of some sort.

"Allister Kirkand requested we bring your lunch to you. He had to leave though. Here you are Sir" The servant said, placing the tray on the table beside where Arthur sat. He thanked her and she left the room. For a moment he left the food untouched, admiring the clear weather.

Soon the smell of food made his stomach rumble, so he took the cover of the dish off. It was a large sandwich and a steaming bowl of soup, with a side dish of fruits. He almost smiled; his servants really outdid themselves. He would barely even be able to finish the soup, let alone a sandwich and fruit.

It was weird that Scotland had acted so...brotherly. Perhaps he actually did care? England shrugged to himself, eating a spoonful of soup. It was then that another memory triggered. Whenever Alfred was feeling down when little, England would always make him soup, and then read him stories.

A flash of darkness flickered in his eyes, and he angrily shoved the tray and food to the floor. They fell with a loud smash and the delicate china broke. He didn't give a damn though, walking to the windows and drawing the shades shut.

"Master Kirkland, what on earth...?" A servant had come after hearing the noise.

"Just go! Everything's fine!" He snarled. The servant turned a pale sheet of white and all but ran from the room. With an angry sighed, Arthur threw himself face down on the bed. Why couldn't he have his baby brother back? His cute sweet little Alfred? What on earth had happened to his adorable baby brother?

He was replaced by an arrogant teenager, a teenager who most likely hated Arthur, just like everybody else...

England silently wept.

**a/n: Ahhhh, more angst, Poor Arthur...haha is it sad that I'm American but the revolutionary war makes me almost cry? Lol...anyway, wow, I already got three reviews! A couple of you suggested his brothers, so here you go! We'll see more of them! Please tell me how you liked this chapter okay? Plus gimme more countries of whom you want me to include. I think I'll have Spain visit him...but I need more ideas! Peace out yall!**


	3. Italy

**Chapter 3: Italy**

If there was one country who could cheer just about anyone up, it would be Italy. The pasta loving nation always looked on the bright side of things, and he hated to see others down. That was why he was on a special quest. To see England!

Other nations had been talking about Arthur, some worried, others not really concerned. Italy was very concerned, even if the British Empire _did_ scare him. Really that didn't matter, because Feliciano couldn't bear to see anyone distressed.

He took his time getting to the house, stopping to talk to beautiful woman or to rest on a bench and enjoy the warm weather. Finally he reached the large elegant house and knocked. After he was greeted by a maid, he was given some tea. He thanked the few maids that showed him to a seat, offering them some pasta that he'd brought.

"Mr. Kirkland says he's really not feeling up to visitors. Perhaps you should come some other time Sir" The servant said timidly. Instantly Italy frowned.

"Not feeling up to visitors? That's no good! I brought him pasta and everything...!" Italy cried, flailing his arms around and indicating to the dish he held in his lap. "I'll go get him myself!"

That was just what Italy did. The energetic Italian skipped up the stairs. He wasn't sure which room was England's, so he just opened door after door. Eventually he found the right room. England was reading a book while sitting up in bed.

"Arthur! Why won't you come downstairs? I made pasta!" Feliciano whined, running over to sit beside the exasperated Brit.

"Listen Italy, you really should go back home..."

"No! Big brother France said you've been feeling sad, so I made you pasta!" Italy argued. England sighed.

"Look, that stupid Frog doesn't know what he's talking about. I'm not up to talking to people, _or _eating pasta." He said firmly. When Italy's eyes started to water, England cursed to himself, starting to feel a little bad.

"Italy...please don't..."

It was too late though, Italy had started to cry. If anyone besides Italy had been crying, England would have just scoffed. This was Italy though, so it was a little hard...

"Fine, FINE! I'll come down and have some pasta! Just please, please, please stop crying!" He finally caved. instantly Italy's tears vanished and he smiled brightly.

"Sì! Come on England, let's go!"

So then England was dragged down to his fancy parlor. It had been so long since he'd been downstairs but the place was still in top condition, being well dusted, and everything was polished. He scoffed a bit. He'd told his servants not to both with anything anymore and just go, but they refused to.

"Now, it's time for pasta" Itlay said cheerfully, scooping heaps of noodles into two plates. He passed one to England, with a fork as well. Wow, that Italian sure came prepared.

England had barely touched any food lately, but he did have to admit that the pasta tasted good. He only ate about half before passing it back to Italy, who shook his head.

"I brought it for you! If your full for now, just put it away in the kitchens until later." He said.

England nodded, getting up and going to the kitchen. One of his few kitchen servants, Eliza, was baking some bread. When she was Arthur, she looked shocked.

"Mr. Kirkland Sir! I didn't know you'd be up!" She said quickly. "Is there anything I can do? Martha had to go home early, and Markus is tending to the gardens so it's just me."

"Could you put this away for me please? Feliciano certainly knows how to make good pasta."

He said this sentence with a slight humorless chuckle. To be honest though, the Brit _did _almost smile. Only because he didn't understand how someone like Italy could be cheerful about_ anything_ weather it be surrendering or even loosing a bet against someone.

"I need to be going now Arthur, my ships going to leave soon. I can bring you more pasta sometime though, would you like that?" Italy asked a few hours later as he gathered up his things.

"...I'd like that. Thanks Feliciano..." England muttered as he stood by the front door to see off his guest.

"Bye England! Remember to finish your pasta!" The Italian called, running off in the direction of the docks.

For the first time in awhile, Arthur actually gave a real smile.

"Bye Italy!"

**XxXxXxXxXxXx**

An hour later while in his ship home, Italy took out some parchment and a quill.

_Dear Big Brother France,_

_I visited England like you asked, and I got him to eat some pasta! Isn't that great? I could tell he was sad though...I wish he wouldn't be. What are we going to do France? Do you think America misses him too? How many letters did you say Alfred sent Arthur? Well, tell me your plans for helping him! _

_Italy_

**a/n: ...Now I'm craving pasta.**

**NYWAYS, thanks for the reviews! The next chapter will be...actually, why don't you guys tell me? What character would you like me to include next? There are many options...hehehe. Review guys, and I will update asap! **


	4. Prussia and Germany

It had been a few weeks since Italy's visit to England. Arthur was beginning to feel slightly better about things, although he still wasn't able to look at anything that had reminded him of Alfred. The servants took down all the photos and paintings of the young American boy because of it, storing them away in the cellar.

The week seemed to pass by slowly. England had taken to coming downstairs every one in awhile, sitting in his fancy parlor to have a cup of tea. It wasn't a big improvement, but at least he wasn't entirely enclosed in his bedroom all day.

It was about mid afternoon when a loud, impatient knocking erupted at the door. Eliza was currently the only maid downstairs so she was quick to go to the door. When she did so, she almost gasped. Two men stood in the doorway, though she didn't recognize who they were. The alarming part was that one man had dark red eyes and very light colored hair, almost white.

The man beside the red eyed man had blue eyes and blonde hair. He looked younger than the other, sporting a slight grimace as the red eyed man gave a smirk to the maid.

"Why hello there madam. This wouldn't happen to be Mr. Arthur Kirkland's home would it?" He asked cheerfully. His accent was heavily German, but it sounded sort of cool. He waited for Eliza to nod before he continued. "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt, but you can just call me Mr. Awesome. This here is my baby brother Luddy!"

'Luddy' gave an exasperated look and spoke up. "It's actually Ludwig. Please forgive my brother."

Eliza still looked slightly alarmed, but gave another timid nod. "Of course. So...you wanted to see Mr. Kirkland?"

"Yeah!" Gilbert said. "It's been awhile since I've seem him, plus I wanted to see how he was holding up from the loss of the war!"

Needless to say, it wasn't long before both Germans were led to the parlor and told to wait. Arthur was very surprised to find out that they were visiting. He was upset because Prussia had helped train American troops to fight against him, but he supposed he needed to suck it up and see Gilbert. After putting on a nice dress shirt and slacks, he proceeded down to his parlor.

He stepped into the room tentatively. Gilbert and Ludwig were both sitting on the fancy loveseat. The older German was ranting off to Ludwig about how awesome he was. Arthur sighed quietly before walking further into the room, letting his presence be known.

"There you are Arthur! I was beginning to think you'd chicken out on coming down!" Gilbert said, giving a half smirk, half smile.

"It's a pleasure to see you Gilbert. You too Ludwig." Arthur forced himself to say, plopping down into a chair across from the brothers. For a moment a stab of pain shot through his heart as he saw the two brothers together. If Alfred were here then he'd sit next to him...

"So, how are you taking the _epic_ loss of the war?" Gilbert's strong voice stirred Arthur from his thoughts.

"Fine. Just fine." The Brit said shortly, biting his lower lip to keep him from swearing at the albino country.

"Mmmm, is that so?" Gilbert said casually. "You must have felt horrible since France allied with the kid. It's no wonder that they won though, his troops _were_ trained by the awesome me!"

Arthur bit his lip even tighter, fists clenching the arms of his chair tightly. Ludwig shot a glare as his older brother, shooting Arthur a look between apology and pity. Gilbert seemed to understand that he struck a nerve, so he was silent for a moment. The silence made the atmosphere a little uneasy for all three of them.

"Hows everything going in your country at the moment?" Ludwig finally broke the silence.

"...Just fine" Arthur muttered. He was beginning to feel that heavy, sinking feeling in his heart again. Almost as if someone very close to him had died. That was what America leaving felt like to him in the first place. To Arthur, his sweet adorable baby brother had died, and gotten replaced by a bratty, rambunctious teen.

"Ahem...would you gentleman care for some tea?" The three men were disrupted by a maid who had walked in, carrying a delicate tray with three cups of tea.

"Thank you very much" Gilbert said as he and Ludwig took some tea. Arthur took his as well but was silent. The maid seemed to notice and sent a slightly disapproving look at the two others. She soon left, so the three drank their tea quietly. It seemed that Arthur was no longer in a talking mood. Ludwig seemed to notice this and cleared his throat.

"Perhaps it's time for us to take our leave brother?" He suggested quietly.

"Aww West, I'm not finished with my tea yet! Don't be so impatient!" Prussia scolded light-heartedly. It only took him a few more minutes to be done before standing and stretching his back.

"Well, thanks for having us Arthur! Don't take your ridiculous pitiful loss to hard huh?" Prussia said, patting Arthur's shoulder briefly before saying, "Come West, time to leave!"

Ludwig however, waited until his big brother was out of the room before turning to Arthur.

"Listen England, don't take any mind to Gilbert's words. He clearly doesn't understand how much this war affected you. We both send out regards." He said kindly. Arthur only nodded mutely, shifting to take another sip of tea.

"Weeest! What's taking you so long?" Gilbert called from the distance. Ludwig said a quick farewell before leaving to go follow his brother. Arthur didn't move from his spot for a few minutes. His knuckles were white since they had still been digging into the armrests. He struggled to slow down his upset breathing. He missed his baby brother...

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

"It looks like your country is running quite well mon ami" France said to the person who sat across from him, who looked barely old enough to be a man.

"Hahah, well Washington has really done wonders since we've won. Things are only going to get better!" America responded enthusiastically from his seat across from the Frenchman. France had traveled to America to see how the young man was doing with his recent independence. So far things looked quite well.

"That's wonderful. I'm glad your doing well." France said smoothly, sipping on the coffee that America had served.

"Yeah. Uh...so hows Arthur doing?" America asked, rubbing his neck uncomfortably.

"He's doing as well as to be expected. It's not easy after winning a war, or loosing someone close." Francis told him with a gentle smile.

"But he didn't loose me!" America argued. "I keep sending him letters, and I really wanna see him! He never sends anything back though...for all I know he might not even be reading the letters."

"I know. Arthur is a very stubborn being, in both country and human ways. He's having mixed feelings about everything. Shame and embarrassing from loosing the war, pain and hurt from you leaving him, and tired from fighting so hard." Francis said.

"I didn't mean to make him so sad...I was ready to become independent though. He needs to understand...I want him to be proud of me, not hate me!" Alfred said sadly.

"I know mon ami. You were not wrong to become independent. It's time for Arthur to learn to let go. We'll just have to be understanding and nice to him so he can get better." Francis told him.

"Yeah.." Alfred sighed. "I really didn't mean to hurt him that bad."

"It's alright Amerique. Perhaps when he feels stronger you could visit him."

"I really wanna see him soon though!" Alfred whined.

"Patience now, and the time will come sooner than you think." Francis said with a chuckle.

**a/n: So sorry it took awhile to update...I've been busy preparing for finals and such. I plan to have America visit, but not for a little while. First well put in some other suggestions, like Canada, Japan, ****ect...anyways, I hope everything is doing well. Please review!**

**History note: Prussia helped train American troops during the revolution. I love Prussia, but I had to make him sort of a bit of a jerk to fit my story. He's still totally awesome though!**


	5. Canada

Matthew Williams shifted nervously as he studied the figure who sat across from him. Arthur had been distant ever since he'd arrived to comfort England. He was going to be staying over for a few nights, although he still wasn't sure it would do any good.

At first he didn't understand. Italy had told the others that his pasta had cheered the British man up. Apparently that wasn't the case though, looking at the sight before him. Arthur had treated him kindly, but it was the small things that were adding up.

England refused to look at him for too long, and he didn't make much small talk. He'd only offered Canada tea before getting himself some before sitting quietly and drinking it.

Canada was used to not being talked to all the time so he wasn't that offended, just worried about England. After all, he did side with the man against Alfred's independence.

"Eh...so how are you Arthur?" He asked softly.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm fine thank you." England replied quietly, still not looking at the Canadian. Matthew's brows furrowed slightly.

"Are you sure? It's just...you wont even look at me." Matthew said, trying his best not to sound rude. Arthur blinked in shock before turning slightly red and looking guilty.

"I'm sorry Matthew, I don't mean to be rude. You...you just..." The Brit trailed off, wringing his hands together tightly.

"What?"

"You look a lot like h-him." Arthur finally confessed, looking anywhere but at Matthew.

Finally a wave of realization hit Canada. Because he was Alfred's brother, twin nonetheless, they looked a lot alike. Of course England would be reminded of his brother! The 'him' was obviously Alfred.

"Arthur I'm sorry. I had no idea." Matthew apologized. "Maybe I should go..."

"NO!" Arthur practically shouted, causing Matthew to jump about a foot in the air. "I mean..why don't you stay for awhile longer? Your ship doesn't leave till Tuesday. Besides, it's been lonely here lately and your certainly better company then the frog."

Canada was a little startled but agreed anyway. So for the next few days he stayed in the big mansion. Sometimes he and Arthur would sit in the gardens, other times they still drank tea in the parlor. Matthew had tried to convince Arthur to go out to town, with no avail.

England was talking a little more, but there still wasn't that much improvement. Arthur's King had come to visit, discussing country matters and such. The King along with the English citizens cared deeply for their mourning country.

Eventually it was Tuesday, and Matthew's ship was leaving that day. Arthur looked a little disappointed, though he still helped the Canadian pack his things.

"Thanks for visiting Matthew. It was nice to talk to someone sane." England said. He had accompanied Canada to the docks, the first time he'd left his property in ages.

"Of course Arthur" Canada smiled. "...Things will get better okay? Alfred's worried about you also. You should actually send him letters back eh?"

Matthew instantly knew he'd said the wrong thing when he saw a glint of anger in England's forest green eyes, followed by pain.

"...I guess I'll see you then." He said when England didn't respond. The Brit refused to look at him, so Matthew guiltily climbed out of the carriage, making his way to the docks. It took a little while, but eventually he got to where he had planned on going next; to France's house.

"Matthieu!" The Frenchman greeted enthusiastically, pulling the Canadian into a hug.

"France, I messed up!" Matthew cried.

"What? What do you mean?" France asked, eyebrows drawing together.

"Before I left...I mentioned America and suggested that he write...I should have kept my mouth shut!" Matthew answered in frustration.

"Oh cher, it's alright. You did nothing wrong. I never would have thought the war would affect him this much..." France mused. "How on earth are we going to fix Angleterre?"

"I don't know." Canada muttered.

"I feel awful, but it was time for America to become independent. He truly is going to go far one day, despite his horrible sense of taste." France said with a chuckle, but there was no trace of humor in his voice. "Somehow we must get it into Angleterre's head that he needs to understand."

"But how?" Canada questioned.

"I think I may have a plan." France said, a smile forming on his lips.

**a/n: Sorry it was so pathetically short. I'd still love some reviews! And for those of you who read A Little Taste in History** **I promise to update soon. Oh guess what? Yesterday Hetalia World Series came in the mail! I freaked out and watched it right away. It's amazing!** **Anyway, I must study for finals, and I may not update until Sunday. Byeee!**


End file.
